The Nightclub of Your Dreams
by SFGrl
Summary: He wanted a new life...in a new city...he got much more than he bargained for. (aka. 'Friends' meets Moulin Rouge!) {complete}
1. Chandler Arrives

AN: Alright, I finally sat down and started working on that _Friends/Moulin Rouge!_ fic I've been writing and re-writing for months…uh, I am pretty much ripping off _Moulin Rouge!_ here, so uh…yeah.  This fic takes place in modern day though, and Chandler is the only one from New York, and Monica and Ross are not related.

I own no "Friends" characters, and the awesome and wonderful Baz Luhrmann is the man responsible for the wonder that is _Moulin Rouge!_

This one's for Vixie Bing, who wanted me to do this ages ago…hope it was worth the wait, babes.

_The Nightclub of Your Dreams_

_Chapter One: Chandler Arrives _

It was a city of lights, filled with dreams of instant fortunes, and a life less ordinary.

Featured in countless books and films, Las Vegas was a city like no other, and it was the one place where anyone could be anything.

Chandler Bing stepped off the train, and smiled. He looked around at the dazzling lights and pumping music, and knew that if he could make it here, his life would forever change. Chandler had come to Vegas to try his hand at writing. He was tired of being a data processor. It was dull and boring. That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to do something… Something interesting and fulfilling, not just sit around all day staring at a screen and working a dull company where it made no difference whether he showed up or not. Maybe out here, he could matter.  Maybe here he could make a name for himself. He could write fantastic performances and the best heart-breaking, soul-lifting stories. People would watch and be amazed at the twists and turns in his magnificent plots and be begging for encores. It was a wonderful dream.  Chandler was just naïve enough to believe that dreams could come true.

He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. "L'Hôtel de l'Amour," he mumbled aloud.  He looked up at the building he was now standing in front of and then back at the paper at the scribbled down address. He sighed heavily. Yep, this was the right place. It was a dreary, depressing place that seemed to lean to one side. Moss…or something that resembled moss, covered the walls, and several windows were broken or boarded up.  Chandler walked through the front door and approached the front desk. A miserable looking elderly woman, sitting behind the desk, barely acknowledged him as he approached. 

"Pardon me, but um, is there a room available?" Chandler asked softly.

The woman didn't respond, she simply tossed a key, attached to a large plastic key chain, onto the desk.

"Um, how much---"

"45 a night, and no noise after 11.  No smoking in the room, no animals, no hookers," the woman muttered robotically.

Chandler shrugged, and made his way up the stairs and down the dark hallway.

He looked at the number on the faded tag, and found his way to his room. The room was small and dark, and was just what he needed to work on his play with no distractions.  And besides, the best writers were often penniless writers, weren't they?

He took his belongings over to the small bed in the damp corner of the room and opened up the bag. He took out the small, cheap laptop that he had bought with the remaining portion of his salary and saving before heading off to Vegas to live a penniless existence. He sat down to begin to type the first of his many gripping stories of adventure, comedy, angst and above all things: love.  Then suddenly, it hit him; he'd never experienced any of these things. Nothing exciting, funny or dramatic had ever happened to him and he had never, ever been in love. He slumped down on the bed, not knowing what to do next. Without inspiration he couldn't write.

"I suppose I could go out and actually look for inspiration," He thought aloud. He got up and walked out the door. As he turned the corner, he slammed into someone, and fell to the floor.  Chandler groaned as he hit the hardwood floor, and as he struggled to stand, he looked to see whom he had run into.  A young, handsome man lay on the floor where Chandler had knocked him over. He grumbled as he stood up and looked at Chandler. Chandler smiled apologetically and the man held out a hand to help him up. 

"You ok?" the man asked.

"I'm fine, thanks. Sorry about that though," He said as he brushed dust and dirt from the floor off of his clothes. 

"No problem man, things happen," The man said warmly and as they shook hands, the man introduced himself.

"Joey Tribianni."

"Chandler Bing," Chandler replied. 

"Good to meet you Chandler," Joey smiled, "So, what brings you to Vegas?"

"Well," Chandler said, "I'm a writer, and I'm hoping to write the next great show!"

"You're kidding!  That's great!  Look, my friends and I are trying to put together a show right now!  You gotta come see what we've done!  Come on!" Joey pulled on Chandler's arm, leading him up to the apartment that sat directly above his.

The apartment was slightly larger than his own, and devoid of any furniture, save for a small rickety bed.  In the far corner of the room, sat a strange, eclectic-looking set, that included a hastily painted sky, and what appeared to be a castle.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Chandler Bing," Joey announced, as they walked through the front door, "Chandler, that's Ross, Phoebe, and Gunther," Joey pointed to the three people that were standing in front of the painted set.

"Hey," he waved.

"Chandler is a _writer_," Joey smiled.

The faces of the other three lit up, and they approached Chandler enthusiastically.

"This is perfect!" Phoebe exclaimed.

"Our last writer quit on us, when we suggested that doing a play that's set in the medieval period may not fit into the whole 'Parisian' theme," Gunther explained.

"I mean, wouldn't that play work better at the _Excalibur_?" Ross added.

"I don't—uh—" Chandler stammered.

"Have you ever written a play before?" Phoebe asked.

"N-no!" Chandler shook his head.

The others looked at each other, and Joey shrugged.

"Well, we need to write a story about…well—"

"I think it should be a revolutionary play about truth and freedom during the revolution!" Ross boomed.

"No! It should be about the beauty of Paris!" Phoebe cried.

"It should be about _love_!" Chandler blurted out.

"What?" Joey asked.

"It should be…about love," Chandler smiled.

"Yes!  Love!" Phoebe danced around happily.

"Okay, but is Jack going to buy it?" Ross asked.

"Uh, who's Jack?" Chandler asked.

"Jack Geller is the owner of the Paris casino," Joey replied.

"And The Paris is putting on the show?"

"Well, we're _hoping_ they will.  They have a nightclub, but Geller wants to turn the club into a theatre.  His dream is to bring Broadway shows into the house, but he can't do that until he established this place as a viable, authentic theatre," Ross said.

"I see," Chandler scratched his head.  What the hell was he getting himself into?

"Jack isn't gonna like the fact that we are changing everything…including the writer," Gunther shook his head.

"We'll just have to convince him that Chandler is the hottest young writer to come out of…where did you say you were from?" Joey asked.

"New York," Chandler smiled.

"Perfect!  He's the hottest young writer to come out of New York since…Jonathan Larson!"

"And how are we going to do that?  He doesn't listen to any of us!"

"Yes, but he does listen to Monica," Phoebe smiled slyly.

Chandler furrowed his brow, "Who is Monica?"

"She's the star of the current show…actually, she's the star of all of the _Rouge's_ shows," Ross said.

Off Chandler's look, Ross continued, "The _Moulin Rouge_ is the name of the club."

Chandler nodded.  Yep, he was definitely in over his head.

~*~

"Richard, I'm so happy you could fly out," Jack Geller smiled, as Richard stepped out of his black stretch limo.

Richard Burke was Hollywood's hottest producer, and well known as a maverick in Hollywood circles.  He often took large, risky chances that most producers wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole.  But he always succeeded, and had managed to make a name for himself—along with millions of dollars—in just ten years.

"Consider this a favour that you owe me, Geller," Richard smiled, and straightened his jacket, "So, this is your latest venture, huh?" Richard peered up at the replica of the Eiffel Tower—The Paris Casino's pride and joy.

"This is it," Jack beamed, "Come on in, I'll show you the Moulin Rouge…you're gonna love it."

"I'm sure I will," Richard sneered, and followed Jack inside.

~*~

Monica stared at herself in her dressing room mirror, and sighed sadly.  She was definitely losing weight, but it wasn't enough.  There was no way she was going to get noticed if she didn't lose at least ten more pounds.  She sucked in her cheeks slightly, in an attempt to accentuate her already prominent cheekbones.

The news that _The _Richard Burke was going to be in the house tonight only made matters worse.  Sure she was the star of the show, but would Richard take notice of her?  Would she finally get the break she'd been longing for?  Would she finally be able to leave this God-forsaken oven of a city?  Sighing again, she put on her most charming smile, and walked out into the club.

AN: Okay, the first part is a lot like the film, but it will deviate a bit later on.  Let me know what you think…reviews are more helpful than you'd think!

A


	2. Because You Can Can Can!

AN:  Well, I've been caught~yup, I am not French, and apparently, I dig on making up French words…hee.  Anyhoo, Chapter one's been fixed, and I will try my best to stick to English, since both my Japanese and my Spanish are pretty crappy too.  You French folks should here how I pronounce Montmartre, lol.  _Oh, man, did I spell that right?_

I own no part of _Friends_ or _Moulin Rouge!_

_The Nightclub of Your Dreams_

_Chapter Two: Because You Can Can Can!_

"Wh-what is it?" Chandler asked.

"What is it?  Chandler, please tell me you've done tequila shots before!" Joey laughed.

"Uh, yeah, of course I have!" Chandler lied, and took the tiny glass from Joey's hand.  He watched, as Joey and the others licked their hands, salted them, licked them again, took the shot, and stuck a lime in their mouths. _How can that possibly be fun?_ Chandler thought. Shrugging, he mimicked his new 'friend's' actions.

The tequila was warm, and burned a line of fire down his throat and into his chest.  He did his best not to gag, as he hurriedly stuck a lime slice into his mouth.  His eyes were watering, and his head was swimming.  What the hell _was _that stuff?

"Oh, man, if you could see your face right now!" Joey laughed, and re-filled Chandler's glass.

~*~

The club was packed, and hopping by 9pm that night.  The lights were dim, and the deep red walls were lined with anxious club-goers hoping to get into the action.  Alcohol, drugs, and sex passed through this club unnoticed, and the shows 'performers' were well known for their 'private' post-show performances, making the _Moulin Rouge_ one of the hottest places to be in Las Vegas.

Jack Geller stood on a platform that hung above the sweating crowds, and smiled proudly.  He could see his vision coming to life, right before his eyes.  He knew that all he needed was one bona fide star to give his show, and his club credibility. After that, the big names on Broadway and in Hollywood would flock to Vegas, to star in the hottest show in town.

Which reminded him, where the hell was Joey Tribianni?

Joey had promised Jack a show he would never forget; a show that Richard Burke would bend over backwards to produce, and a show that would turn his beloved HarMonica into a star.

But tonight, Joey was nowhere to be found, and that was concerning Jack greatly.

Putting the thoughts in the back of his head, he walked into the main dressing room, where all of his girls were preparing to put on their show.

"Looking spectacular girls!" Jack boomed, and received fond thank-yous and hurried kisses.

"Jack, is it true that Richard Burke is here tonight?" 

"Yes, Rachel, it's true.  But he's here to see Monica," Jack quickly added.

Rachel's face fell for a moment, but she quickly recovered, and put on her best show-stopping smile, "Well, of course he is," she said, fighting hard to hold back her jealously and anger.  She watched, as Jack left the main room, and walked into Monica's private dressing room.  Rolling her eyes, Rachel sat down on a tattered chair in the corner of the room.  She was so sick of Monica getting all of the attention!  She knew that she was twice the singer Monica was, and she was willing to sleep with anyone and everyone to get where she needed to be.  But Jack had his favorites, and Monica was his shining star.

"Rach, come on, we gotta go!"

Sighing heavily, Rachel checked her reflection in the mirror.  She smiled.  All she had to do was get to Richard Burke before Monica did.  She could charm the pants off of him (literally) and in no time at all, _she'd_ be a star.

It was perfect.

~*~

"Come on, I got us a table," Joey led Chandler and the others to a set of tables that were nestled in the far corner of the club.

"What?" Chandler yelled, as the club music thumped relentlessly in his ears.  His eyes scanned the room, taking in the debauchery that surrounded them.  He'd never seen anything like this in his life!  Did this kind of thing happen in New York as well?  He struggled to keep up with Joey, who was making a beeline for a table that was marked 'reserved'.

"Perfect!" Ross boomed, as the all scooted into the large leather booth, "We'll get to see everything!"

Chandler sat on the edge of the booth, completely mesmerized by the scenes that surrounded him; people popping multi-colored pills, drinking countless shots of that awful tequila that was now burning a hole in Chandler's stomach; others were dancing, some one-on-one, others in large groups.  Everyone was scantily clad, or even half-naked, and Chandler suddenly felt a little over-dressed in his black shirt and matching jacket.  In the booth next to them, three people were engaged in what appeared to be a threesome—Chandler did his best to keep his eyes diverted from that scene.

The center of the floor cleared, as a group of about twelve to fifteen scantily clad women emerged onto the platform, and made their way down to the floor.  The thumping music changed, and the women began spinning around the floor, and grabbing at random men.

"The show has begun!" Gunther exclaimed, and scanned the floor for his favorite dancer, Rachel.

Chandler watched, as the women twirled and shimmied their way around the room, grabbing at outstretched money and hotel room keys as they went.  Then, on the platform above, emerged a large, red-faced man, dressed in a top hat and tails, and looking more like a circus ringleader than a nightclub owner.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the _Moulin Rouge_!  We will do all that we can to fill your every hearts desire!  Now sit back, relax, and pull out your pocketbooks…because you ain't seen nothing yet!!"

The music changed, and the dancers made their way around the floor, pulling anxious men with them.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Joey yelled into Chandler's ear.

"N-no, never!" Chandler replied in awe.  The tequila was starting to really kick in…Chandler was having trouble seeing, and his head felt woozy.

Suddenly, the music stopped again, and the crowd quieted.  Chandler looked around the room, trying to see what was going on.

"It's her!" Joey exclaimed, and pointed toward the ceiling.

Chandler looked up, and saw a petite, dark-haired woman perched on a sequined swing.  Her sapphire eyes sparkled as brightly as the deep blue sequins on her tiny outfit.  Her pale skin radiated in the spotlight that shone on her, and her pouty red lips curled into a mischievous grin as she scanned the room.

She was the most stunning creature Chandler had ever laid eyes on.

_The French are glad to die for love _

_They delight in fighting duels _

_But I prefer a man who lives _

_And gives _

_Expensive jewels _

Chandler watched, as Monica swung down to the floor, and was instantly surrounded by hungry-looking men.

_A kiss on the hand may be quite Continental _

_But diamonds are a girl's best friend _

A kiss may be grand 

_But it won't pay the rental _

_On your humble flat _

Or help you feed your pussycat 

_Men grow cold _

_As girls grow old _

_And we all lose our charms in the end _

_But square-cut or pear-shaped _

_These rocks don't lose their shape _

_Diamonds are a girl's best friend _

"Why, Richard Burke, what brings you to our humble little home?" Rachel saddled up next to Richard, just as Monica took the stage.

"Huh?  Oh, uh, Jack said I could find my next big star here," Richard replied, not taking his eyes off of Monica.

"Well, there is quite a lot of…talent here," Rachel said seductively, and straddled Richard's lap.

"Y-yes, there is," Richard tore his eyes from the floor, and looked at Rachel.

_Tiffany's . . . Cartier . . ._

_Cause we are living in a material world and I am a material girl_

_Talk to me, Jack Geller, tell me all about it!_

_There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer _

_But diamonds are a girl's best friend _

_There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer _

_Thinks you're awful nice _

_But get that ice _

Or else no dice 

"Chandler, I think we should get you alone with her…you may be able to persuade her that your show…" Ross started.

"Alone?  What are you talking about?  I…I don't know how to talk to women…especially gorgeous women like—like, her!  And besides, I don't have a story yet…"

_He's your guy when stocks are high _

_But beware when they start to descend _

"Jack, where's Richard sitting?" Monica asked, as she twirled in front of him.

"He's in our VIP seating, of course," Jack smiled, and looked over at Richard's table, "Oh no!"

"What? What is it?"

"Rachel is trying to get her claws into him…you'd better work your magic sweetheart."

Rachel sauntered over to the next table, and leaned into the wide-eyed young man who was seated with Joey Tribianni.

"Pardon me, may I have your ashtray?" Rachel asked seductively.

Chandler looked up at Rachel, but was stunned speechless when he realized that she had shoved her chest into his face.  

Monica turned, and saw Rachel running her conniving hands through Richard's hair.  Damn her!  She was always trying to steal her thunder!  Monica blinked, and looked at Richard again.  _Funny_, she thought, _he's a lot younger than I thought he'd be_.

_'Cos that's when those louses _

Go back to their spouses Diamonds are a girl's best friend 

Monica made her way over to Richard, and was relieved to see that Rachel had moved on to the next table.  Perhaps Rachel had no idea who Richard Burke was!  Of course, Monica didn't know much about him either.  She'd heard the stories, and knew he was a bit of a womanizer; but he was also well known as a star-maker, and Monica would do whatever she needed to get what she wanted.

"Well, hello," Monica said seductively, as she sat herself on Richard's lap.

Chandler couldn't believe it.  The woman of his dreams was sitting on his lap, flirting with him!  It was like the best dream he'd never had.  She ran her hand down his face, and smiled seductively.

"Monica, this is the new…" Joey started.

"I know, Joey," Monica interrupted, then turned her attention back to Chandler, "I've been waiting for him all my life," she smiled, and pulled him out onto the dance floor.

**_ "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend", by Jule Styne and Leo Robin_**

****


	3. Your Song

AN: Ah, NYE approaches…and though I know that there is no way I will be able to top Times Square, I'm certain that I'll be able to cause some kind of trouble on the streets of San Francisco…hee.  Happy New Year everyone!

_The Nightclub of Your Dreams_

Chapter Three: Your Song 

"Erm, I uh, I'm not much of a dancer," Chandler stuttered, as Monica pulled him out onto the dance floor.

"Don't be ridiculous," Monica said coyly, "Just move your body to the music!"

Chandler looked around nervously, and smiled uncomfortably when he noticed that several jealous eyes were focused on him.  He couldn't blame them, really; Monica was breathtaking.

"I—uh, I was thinking," Chandler yelled, as he twirled Monica around into his arms, surprising even himself with his natural grace, "That we should discuss this in…private?"

Monica giggled seductively, and pulled Chandler toward her, rubbing her body against his.

"Why of course…I wouldn't have it any other way," she whispered.

Chandler's spine tingled, and he turned Monica again.

"Um, I mean…where…"

Monica smiled, and slid a card-key into Chandler's hand.

"Room 1899," she purred, "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

~*~

Monica stared at her reflection in her dressing room mirror.  This was it; one more trick, and she would be finished with this…horrible life.  No more selling herself, no more pretending to be someone she wasn't.

And perhaps it wouldn't be so bad; this Richard Burke didn't seem quite as vile as she'd imagined him to be.  Using him to get out of this life looked to be a bit easier…he seemed truly enamored by her.  Smiling wryly, she popped a pill into her mouth, and downed it with a gulp of water.

"My darling, how is everything going with Mr. Burke?" Jack asked as he walked into Monica's dressing room.

Monica twirled around, showing off a magnificent blue gown as she turned.  She grinned when Jack gasped proudly.

"He's meeting me in my suite," Monica said excitedly.

"Perfect!  Just get him to buy into the new show, and we'll all get what we want!"

~*~

Chandler paced nervously in front of the hotel room door.  He wasn't sure this was a good idea, him trying to pitch the show alone.  But what could he do?  He'd asked the others to tell him what kind of show Jack was looking for, but they were of no help at all.

_"I still think we should set it in India," Phoebe argued._

_"I don't know, I mean, do you know anything about India?" Ross asked._

_"Okay, guys, this is getting us nowhere!" Chandler yelled.  "Look, I've got…ten minutes before I have to pitch an idea to Monica, and I've got nothing!"_

_"Well, can't you just read something you've already wrote?" Joey asked._

_"I—I don't really have much…" Chandler said, as his cheeks flushed._

_"Ha!  Yes you do!  What did you write?" Phoebe asked excitedly._

_"Just…you know…some poems…" Chandler shrugged, "She'll hate them."_

Shaking his head, Chandler looked at his watch, and started, when he realized he was five minutes late for his meeting.  He took a deep breath, and slid the card-key into the door.

Monica was standing in the center of the dimly lit room, wearing nothing but a deep red corset, and a long, red silk robe.

"You're late," she purred, and moved toward the wet bar.

"I, uh, I'm sorry.  I was, uh…"

"I know.  Come on in, make yourself at home.  Champagne?" Monica asked.

"Uh…uh no," Chandler shook his head, memories of the tequila and it's effects still resonating in his head.

"Okay…mind if I have some?" Monica smiled.

"Not at all, Miss…?" Chandler started.

"Monica.  It's just Monica," she said. A slight, almost unnoticeable defensiveness lined her voice.

"Okay…Monica."

Monica sauntered toward the bed, and sprawled herself across it slowly.

"Join me?" Monica smiled.

"Um, I think…It's better if I stand," Chandler stuttered nervously, and moved toward the large picture window that overlooked Las Vegas Boulevard.

"Okay," Monica shrugged, and pulled herself off of the bed.

"Um, you can sit, if—if you want.  It's usually pretty long, and I think it might be easier for me if I'm not looking right at you," Chandler smiled uncomfortably, and turned back toward the window.

"Ooookay," Monica backed onto the bed, and furrowed her brow.  Did he just insult her?

"Um…I'm not sure what you're looking for…but I was thinking about just winging it…you are…very inspiring," Chandler smiled.

Monica watched his expression through his reflection in the glass.  Her guard lowered slightly, and she allowed herself to smile a genuine smile…for a moment.  A split second later, she came to her senses, and replaced the real smile with the seductive grin that she used with all of her 'clients'.

"Should I…um, should I just start?  I've…um…I've never done this before."

"Really?" Monica smiled incredulously, "That's not what I heard."

"What?" Chandler turned to look at Monica.

"N-nothing," Monica backtracked, biting her lip.  She could not ruin this—Richard was her ticket out of her…she had to make him fall for her.  "Please…begin," Monica whispered, and slipped out of her robe.

Chandler turned back toward the window quickly, his face reddening.  He struggled for a coherent thought, much less some kind of poetry…suddenly, he felt Monica run her hand up his back.  Panicking, he stumbled away, falling hard onto the carpeted floor.

"Oh!  Now look who's on his back," Monica giggled, and moved toward Chandler.

Wide-eyed, Chandler rolled away, and pushed himself off of the floor.

"Uh…It… It's a little bit funny…this—this feeling inside."

"What?" Monica cocked her head to the side.

"I'm not one of those who can easily hide," Chandler stammered.

"Well, there's nowhere to really hide in here anyway," Monica purred.

"I don't have much money but boy if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live."

"Very funny," Monica smiled at the apparent irony of that statement.  She knew Richard was _loaded_.

"If I were a sculptor, but then again, no…or a man who makes potions in a traveling show," Chandler smiled slightly at his last statement.  _Hey, not bad Bing_, he thought.  His smile faltered, when he saw that Monica seemed to be losing interest.

"I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do!"

Monica laughed, and shook her head.  She moved to sit down on the bed, but stopped cold when she heard the poem melt into a song.

_My gift is my song and this one's for you_

And you can tell everybody this is your song 

_It may be quite simple but now that it's done_

_I hope you don't mind_

_I hope you don't mind that I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is while you're in the world_

Monica sat down, stunned.  It was…beautiful.  Beyond beautiful, it was…captivating.  Chandler turned toward her, his sapphire eyes sparkling.  

_I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss_

_Well a few of these verses well they've got me quite cross_

_But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song_

_It's for people like you that keep it turned on_

Chandler walked toward Monica slowly, and knelt in front of her.  She found herself lost in the sea of blue, her mind transported to a different plane…a different—world.  She was lost in him, and for the first time in years…or perhaps for the first time ever, she felt…exhilarated…alive…swept away.

In love.

_So excuse me forgetting but these things I do_

_You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue_

_Anyway the thing is what I really mean_

_Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen_

Chandler smiled and took her hand, pulling her to her feet, and spinning her toward the window, toward the sparkling lights of the city below.  Sin City never looked so lovely as it did tonight.

_And you can tell everybody, that this is your song_

_It may be quite simple but now that it's done_

_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_

_That I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is, now you're in the world…_

"Richard…that's…that's the most beautiful thing I've ever…ever heard," Monica whispered, her face only inches from his.

"Richard?  Who's Richard?"

_("Your Song," Music by Elton John / Lyrics by Bernie Taupin)_


	4. Silly Love Songs

AN: Well, I managed to survive yet another insane NYE…no arrests or hospitalizations, but I am still hella tired!  LOL.  Here's the next part…let's all keep in mind that I am no Baz, mmmkay?  LOL.

_The Nightclub of Your Dreams_

_Chapter Four: Silly Love Songs_

"Richard…that's…that's the most beautiful thing I've ever…ever heard," Monica whispered, her face only inches from his.

"Richard? Who's Richard?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry…shall I call you _Monsieur Burke_?" Monica giggled.

"I, uh…" Chandler looked perplexed, and his silence raised alarms in Monica.

"What's going on?" Monica asked suddenly, as she backed away from Chandler.

"It's just…well, my name is Chandler Bing, and—"

"Chandler?  What kind of name is _Chandler_?"

"I—"

"Did Richard send you?"

"No…um, I'm a writer."

"A _writer_?"

"Y-yes.  You see, I ran into…I mean _literally _ran into Joey Tribianni, and—"

"Joey!  Oh god, you're one of Joey's little projects, aren't you!!?" Monica gasped.

"Well, I—"

"Oh! I'm going to kill him!!  I—I have to find Richard!  Oh, this is a disaster!" Monica threw on her robe, and began rooting around for her shoes.

"Well, I…" Chandler started, but soon realized that Monica wasn't even aware of his presence anymore.

"A-ha!" Monica said triumphantly, as she pulled a rogue red stiletto sandal from underneath the bed.

"Monica…" Chandler said, as Monica began racing for the door.  Monica spun around, and Chandler could not help but notice that the look she'd had on her face when he was singing to her had disappeared.

"I have to find Richard," she said shortly.

"But I—" Monica left before Chandler could finish his thought.  Sighing heavily, he turned and looked out the window, noting that the lights on the Boulevard seemed a bit dimmer.

_How wonderful life is, when you're in…the world._

_~*~_

"Monica, what are you doing here?" Jack asked, as Monica raced through the lobby.

"The man that…that wasn't Richard!"

"Are you sure?  Tall, handsome…thick mustache?" Jack asked.

"No he was…well, he was kind of tall and handsome…"Monica's mind drifted slightly.  _Very_ handsome, she added to herself, "but NO mustache!"

"Jack," Richard called, as he approached.

"Richard, there you are!  Monica has been looking for you!" Jack shot Monica a look.

"Yes!  Richard, where have you been?" Monica plastered on a seductive smile.

"I was…taking advantage of some of your club's more…interesting features," Richard smiled wryly, and Monica cringed internally.

"Well, Monica has been looking forward to…making your acquaintance," Jack implied.

Richard looked Monica up and down, and grinned, "Shall we ascend to your room then, Monica?" 

Monica put on her brightest fake smile and took Richard's hand, "Of course," she whispered, and led him toward the elevators.

The doors opened with a whoosh, and Richard and Monica turned to walk into the elevator, but stopped short when Chandler walked out of it.

Monica's eyes widened, and she felt her stomach flutter, as Chandler shot her a look.  He then looked up at Richard, his lip stiffening.  Hesitating for just a moment, Chandler stepped out of the couple's way.

Monica stole another glance at Chandler, and the words he sang earlier rang in her ears.  As the doors began to slide shut, Chandler looked back at Monica, and something in his eyes told her that she was making a huge mistake.

"Richard," she said suddenly, as the doors closed, "I think that you and I should discuss…the um, the show.  I mean, I think that we have a lot to cover, and I know that—"

"Just what did you have in mind," Richard smiled, taking her statements as insinuations.

"I think…you should meet the writer!" Monica said, and hit the 'L' button on the elevator.

~*~

"Chandler!" Ross called, as he, Joey, Phoebe and Gunther approached.

"Hey guys," Chandler smiled.

"How'd it go?" Joey asked.

"Awful.  She…she thought I was Richard Burke!"

"What?  I just saw Richard with Rachel!" Phoebe said.

"With Rachel?" Ross echoed, his face revealing his envy.

"Yeah, well, now Richard's with Monica," Chandler spat.

"I think somebody's jealous!" Phoebe said in a singsong tone.

"She…I thought she…" Chandler shook his head.

"You thought she what?" Ross asked.

"Mr. Bing?" Chandler turned to see Monica and a very dejected looking Richard heading their way.

"M-Monica," Chandler said, astounded that she even remembered his name.

"This is Richard Burke," Monica smiled.

"THE Richard Burke?" Phoebe asked flirtatiously.

"The one and only," Richard said pompously.

"Richard, this is the writer, Chandler Bing," Monica continued.

"Ah yes, the _writer_," Richard echoed mockingly, "So Chandler, what…what exactly is this story about?"

"About?" Joey laughed uncomfortably.

"It's about love," Chandler smiled, his eyes locked on Monica's, "It's about love, overcoming all obstacles."

"Love?" Richard asked incredulously.

"Yes, it's set in Medieval England!" Joey said.

"What, no, it's set in India!" Ross argued.

"It's set in Paris," Chandler yelled, "You see, it's…"Chandler looked around the casino, then looked down at the card key he was still holding, "it's 1899, and there is a penniless…poet, who travels from England to Montmartre, so that he can join the Bohemian Revolution!"

"Yes, yes!!" Joey nodded enthusiastically.

"And…he meets these people, who…who are writing a show for the famous Moulin Rouge!  And he goes with them…and he meets the head dancer…and she mistakes him for…for a Duke.  He wasn't trying to trick her or anything; he just wanted to sell her on his…poetry.  He wanted to work on her show," Chandler watched, as Monica flushed.

"He reads her the poetry, but when she discovers that he is not the Duke, she leaves him…"

"Awww," Ross, Phoebe, Gunther, Joey and Jack said simultaneously.

"But the poet wins her heart…only she must stay with the Evil Duke, or the Moulin Rouge will be destroyed…" Chandler smiled.

"It sounds…like a good start," Richard said flatly, though the others were nearly bursting with joy.

"Perhaps we should…discuss this further?" Monica smiled.

"Richard, why don't you and I discuss the…finer details, while the ideas are still fresh in your mind?" Jack suggested.

Richard looked over at Monica, who sauntered over to him, and wrapped her arms around him.  Chandler did his best not to pull a face as he watched the sordid scene.

"Richard," she purred, "I'm awfully tired.  How about you and I get together tomorrow night, to work out our…agreement," she purred.

Richard smiled, finding Monica just as enchanting as everyone else did.  He found himself completely drawn to her, and quickly agreed, simply to please her.

"Fine…I'll see you tomorrow…" Richard leaned in, and kissed Monica hungrily, before following Jack up to his office.

Monica excused herself from the others, and made her way back up to her room.  She changed quickly, putting on a gown that was much more comfortable that what she had been wearing.  She looked at the clock, and noted that it was almost 3am.  She sighed, realizing that she wasn't very sleepy, and knowing full well why—Chandler.  Why couldn't she get him—or that damn song—out of her head?  She wandered toward the window, and her eyes fell to the floor as something shiny caught her eye.  She bent down to pick it up, and noted that it was a silver Zippo lighter.  She flipped open the top, and flicked the lighter, watching for a long moment, as the solitary flame danced in her hand.  Flipping the lid shut, she turned over the lighter, and noted that it was engraved: _CMB_

CMB?  Whose initials were CMB?  Chandler Bing?  Perhaps.  Monica smiled, and pulled on her robe, before sliding the lighter into her pocket.  She made her way downstairs, and into the casino.

Chandler sighed, as he looked down over the casino. He stood on the platform of the Eiffel Tower replica, watching as the last group of tourists made their way back into the elevator.  Concealing his presence from the elevator operator/tour guide, he watched the elevator descend the tower, before sitting dejectedly in the far corner of the main platform.

_Late in the night when I'm all alone _

_And I look at the clock and I know you're not home _

_I can't help myself _

_I've got to see you again _

_I could almost go there _

_Just to watch you be seen _

_I could almost go there _

Just to live in a dream 

_But no I won't go for any of those things _

_To not touch your skin is not why I sing _

_I can't help myself _

_I've got to see you again _

_I could almost go there _

_Just to watch you be seen _

_I could almost go there _

_Just to live in a dream _

_No I won't go to share you with them _

_But oh even though I know where you've been _

_I can't help myself _

_I've got to see you again_

"Joey told me I might find you here," Monica's voice came from nowhere, and startled Chandler.

"Monica," Chandler stuttered, and stood up quickly as she approached.

"You do know that this thing is closed…you aren't supposed to be here," Monica smiled.

"I couldn't help myself…I always seem to want what I can't have," Chandler said quietly.

Monica flushed slightly, then composed herself and held out the silver lighter, "This yours?"

"Yeah…how did you?" Chandler took the lighter, and struggled to ignore the spark that ignited his soul when their fingers touched.

"I—uh, it was in my room," Monica stuttered.

"Oh," Chandler smiled.

"Anyway, I should…I should go," Monica turned to call for the elevator.

"Wait!  Please, just wait a second!" Chandler called out, and Monica turned to look at him.

"I was wondering…I mean…if I wasn't a penniless wannabe writer…would you…I mean, could you…?"

"I…I really have to go," Monica shook her head.

"Silly of me," Chandler laughed sadly, "to think that someone like you could love someone like me."

Monica turned and looked at Chandler, "I…I can't fall in love," she stuttered quickly.

"What?" Chandler approached her, looking confused.

"Love will only…ruin everything.  I want to be a star, and I can't afford to…"

"But Love is like Oxygen!  Love is a Many Splendor Things, Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong, All You Need is Love!"

"What?  Why are you listing off silly love songs?" Monica laughed, and turned to walk away.

_How can I just let you walk away?_

_Just let you leave without a trace?_

_When I stand here taking every breath with you, oh._

Monica turned and looked at Chandler as he sang out his plea.  Smiling at the new game, she sang back;

_Wise men say_

_Only fools rush in_

Chandler smiled,

_But I can't help falling in love with you!_

Monica shook her head, and turned away from Chandler.

_You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs_

_But I look around me and I see it isn't so_

_Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs_

_And what's wrong with that?_

_I'd like to know_

_'Cause here l go again_

Chandler climbed up the scaffolding, and swung down toward Monica, who was giggling.

_Love is a many splendored thing_

_It's the April rose that only grows in the early spring_

_Love is nature's way of giving a reason to be living_

_The golden crown that makes a man a king_

"Get down from there!" Monica yelled, bur Chandler continued.

_Once on a high and windy hill_

_In the morning mist two lovers kissed and the world stood still_

_Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing_

Monica finally pulled him down, and shook her head, while trying to fight her heart.

_Men grow cold _

_As girls grow old _

_And we all lose our charms in the end_

_I was made for loving you baby_

_You were made for loving me!_

_En haut de la rue St-Vincent _

_Un poète et une inconnue _

S'aimèrent l'espace d'un instant 

_Mais il ne l'a jamais revue _

Monica smiled slyly, unaware that Chandler was fluent in French.

_Cette chanson il composa _

_Espérant que son inconnue _

_Un matin d'printemps l'entendra _

_Quelque part au coin d'une rue_

_I have a face I cannot show_

_I make the rules up as I go_

It's try and love me if you can 

_Are you strong enough to be my man?_

_Just because I will always love you!!_

Monica smiled, and wrapped her arms around Chandler's neck.

_I can't help loving you…_

_How wonderful life is, now you're in the world!_

"I think this may end…badly," she warned.

"I don't care," Chandler whispered, and kissed her passionately.

("_Just to See You Again_"~Jesse Harris; "_Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)"~_Phil Collins; _"Can't Help Falling In Love (With You)"~_ George Weiss - Hugo Peretti - Luigi Creatore; _"Silly Love Songs"~_Paul McCartney & John Lennon; _"Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend"~_ Jule Styne and Leo Robin; _"I Will Always Love You"~_Dolly Parton; _"La Complainte de la Butte"~_ By Georges Van Parys, Jean Renoir; _"I Was Made for Loving You"~_ by Paul Stanley, Desmond Child, Vini Poncia; _"Strong Enough"~_Sheryl Crow; _"Your Song"~_Elton John and Bernie Taupin)

Rough translation of _La Complainte de la Butte_ (courtesy http://www.bestofewan.com) C. Marcotte with help from Alex, Diane and Laeti

_At the top of St-Vincent street_

_A poet and a (female) stranger_

_Loved each other the space of a moment_

_But he never saw her again_

_This song he wrote_

_Hoping that his (female) stranger_

_Will hear it on a spring morning_

_Somewhere on a street corner_


	5. El Tango de la Moulin Rouge

AN: So, I saw _Chicago_ last night, and it was amazing!  I saw it on Broadway two yrs ago and loved it, and the film does a wonderful job re-creating it…Catherine Zeta-Jones rocks! Anyhoo…Here's more of this one…reviews are highly appreciated!

_The Nightclub of Your Dreams_

Chapter Five: El Tango de la Moulin Rouge 

"It's important that you understand, Jack, that I must have final say in the show itself," Richard said flatly.  He and Jack were convening in Jack's office the next morning.

"Of course, Richard," Jack smiled.

"I will hold the deeds to the Casino as well.  And I am prepared to sign Monica to a contract.  She will, of course, come back with me to Los Angeles, once the show is under way."

Jack's jovial expression faltered, but was quickly covered with a forced grin.

"She will…belong to me," Richard said darkly.  Off of Jack's panicked look, he continued, "Figuratively speaking, of course," Richard chuckled.

"Of course," Jack muttered uneasily.

~*~

Monica's eyes fluttered open, and she squinted as her eyes adjusted to the flood of light that had entered the room.  She turned over, and saw Chandler, still fast asleep on the other side of the bed.  She watched him for several silent moments, his chest moving up and down rhythmically, and his sandy hair poking up in several odd directions.  She smiled.  He was the first person in a very long time that saw through the façade she put up…that saw her for who she was.

Her smile faded, when she began pondering the repercussions that inevitably came with falling in love.  One, or both of them would be hurt.  She was risking everything—and for what?  To fulfill the boyhood fantasies of a penniless…no.  No she was risking everything for love.  She loved him…as impossible as it may have seemed just yesterday…she had fallen for him.

He yawned, and pulled himself into consciousness.

"Hello," he said quietly.

"Hello," Monica smiled.

"Have you been awake long?"

"Just a few minutes…I was studying your face," Monica ran her finger along Chandler's jaw.

"Oh?" Chandler smiled, and blushed slightly.

"You were…amazing last night," Monica whispered softly, "You must have had many girlfriends…in New York."

"No, I…well, I…" Chandler stuttered, and sat up, pulling the blanket toward his chest protectively.

"It's alright…you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to…" Monica smiled.

"No, I want to…it's just…well, I…it's a little embarrassing," Chandler laughed uneasily, and ran a hand through his matted hair.

"Oh," Monica bit her lip, and stared down at her hands.

"I've never…um, I mean you were…m-my first—" Chandler shrugged.

"I'm your first girlfriend?" Monica asked, but as she watched Chandler's expression change, and his neck disappear deeper into his shoulders, she realized what he was trying to say.

"You mean you…wow," Monica said softly.

"I had a girlfriend once…but we never…" Chandler shrugged, as he pulled himself out of bed, and pulled on a white hotel robe.

"I think that's…precious," Monica smiled, and pulled on her silk robe, as she followed Chandler to the picture window that overlooked the Strip.

Chandler flushed, and turned to look at Monica.

"I…I love you," Chandler smiled.

"I love you too," Monica whispered.  Chandler pulled her into his arms, and they watched the activity on the street below in silence.

~*~

_Rehearsal Day 12_

"Monica, darling, I was hoping that you and I could have a late dinner tonight…to go over the details of your contract," Richard sat himself next to Monica, as she was reading through the first draft of Chandler's show.

"Oh, um, I really should work on the show tonight, Richard…couldn't we…take care of all of this on opening night?" Monica smiled seductively, hoping to win Richard over, and convince him to leave her alone.

Chandler watched from across the room, as Monica smiled at Richard.  He felt his stomach lurch, and bile climb into his throat.  How could she just turn on her charms like that?  Make Richard believe that she loved him?  Suddenly, a dark thought made it's way into Chandler's head; what if Monica was playing the same game with him?  He shook his head, not allowing such thoughts to permeate his mind and soul.

Monica rid herself of Richard, and made her way over to Chandler.  She shot him a look, and Chandler took the hint, and followed Monica to her dressing room.

"Chandler…" Monica started, her eyes dull with dread.

"What…what is it?" Chandler's eyes filled with panic.

"I…I'll have to sleep with him…at some point.  He…he won't be put off much longer."

"No!  No you don't, I—" Chandler became uncharacteristically agitated.

"Chandler, you know what I am, and what I have to do to survive!  Maybe we should end this—"

"No!  We can get through this…"

"Chandler…you'll get jealous…and you'll—"

"I'll be okay.  I won't get jealous.  I love you."

"I don't think that's enough to—"

_Never knew I could feel like this_

_It's like I've never seen the sky before_

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Every day I'm loving you more and more_

_Listen to my heart can you hear it sing_

_Telling me to give you everything!_

_Seasons may change, winter to spring_

_But I love you till the end of time_

_Come what may, come what may, come what may_

I will love you until my dying day 

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place_

_Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace_

_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste_

_It all revolves around you_

_And there's no mountain too high_

_No river too wide, sing out this song_

_And I'll be there by your side_

_Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide_

_But I love you until the end of time _

"Come what may," Monica whispered, her heart once again enchanted by his wonderful words…by his beautiful song.

~*~

_Rehearsal Day 28_

Rachel made her way toward the dressing rooms, her mind wandering.  She had managed to get to Richard last night, but he still seemed completely taken by Monica.  She just could not understand it!  Why did all of the good one's go for Monica.  Sighing, she walked past Monica's private dressing room, and was taken aback by the sight that caught her eye; Chandler and Monica…kissing.

Rachel smiled, as a new idea began to form in her head—she could still have Richard…if she played her cards right.

"I…don't know…how much longer Richard will…be put off…he is being rather…oh," Monica attempted to talk to Chandler, as he ran butterfly kisses down her neck.

They had managed to keep their affair a secret from everyone, hiding under the pretense that they were both completely absorbed in the show.  They would rehearse every night with the entire group, but they would always manage to linger, just a little bit longer, with hopes that no one would be able to see their loving looks, and lame excuses.

But they had gotten careless.  They had not noticed Jack, standing across the rehearsal hall, watching the sordid scene, anger rising within him.  Eventually, Chandler left, after extracting a promise from Monica that she would meet him in his apartment later that night.

"Promise?" he whispered into her hair.

"Promise," Monica confirmed, and watched as he jogged happily out of the room.

"Is this why you keep putting Richard off?" Jack's voice came from nowhere, startling Monica.  She gasped.

"Jack!  You scared me!"

"Everything is riding on this show, Monica.  We cannot afford this kind of…Richard expects you in his room tonight.  You will meet him, and you will do _whatever it takes_ to make sure he takes this show all the way," Jack warned, "And you and Chandler…are finished."

"Jack!"

"It's for the best, Monica.  You need to focus your energies on making Richard happy.  He wants to marry you, you know."

"Well I don't want to marry him!"

"Yes, you do…at least until I can get the deeds to the casino back…" Jack said softly.

"What?"

"Just take care of Richard, okay?"

Monica watched Jack walk away, and tears formed in her eyes.  She didn't want Richard—she never did.  She just wanted to be with Chandler…but now…if she did ruin things with Richard…everything would be destroyed, and everyone in the club would lose their jobs.  She shook her head, amazed at the way that life was imitating art.  It was just like Chandler's show…except that she wasn't dying of some horrid disease.  Wandering into her dressing room, she fought off hunger pangs, and popped another diet pill—she wanted to lose 5 more pounds before opening night, and she only had two weeks left.

~*~

Chandler looked at the clock again, and sighed heavily.  It was clear that Monica was not coming tonight, after all.  Shaking his head, he walked out of the apartment, and made his way toward the casino.

The Moulin Rouge club was relatively empty, and eerily quiet.  Chandler scanned the room, hoping that Monica had gotten caught up in something here, and had simply lost track of time.

"Looking for your lover?" Rachel smiled, as she approached Chandler slowly.

"Wh-what?" Chandler asked nervously.

"Monica's with Richard…they're up in her room," Rachel whispered, and ran a hand down Chandler's chest seductively.

Chandler backed away, his eyes darkening.

"Rachel, leave him alone," Ross, said flatly, as he stumbled down the stage steps.  He looked at Chandler, and smiled sadly.

"Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself, Chandler," Ross said, glancing at Rachel, "Nothing good will ever come of it."

"I don't know what you're—"

"You two aren't as sneaky as you thought you were.  Everyone knows.  And we've all been working to make sure Richard didn't know.  But…Rachel has her own agenda…he knows…and Monica is now making sure he stays on board."

"She's…sleeping with him?" Chandler choked.

"She has to," Ross said flatly, "it's her job," Ross watched, as Rachel sashayed across the room, "They will only break your heart, these women," Ross sighed, and made his way toward Rachel.  He wrapped an arm around her, and twirled her into his arms.

_Roxanne, you don't have to put on that red light_

_Walk the streets for money _

_You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right_

_Roxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight_

_Roxanne, you don't have to sell your body to the night_

Chandler watched Ross and Rachel's tango, his heart hurting at the very idea that Richard was touching her…kissing her…he felt his jealousy begin to consume him.

_His eyes upon your face_

_His hand upon your hand_

His lips caress your skin 

_It's more than I can stand_

_Why does my heart cry?_

_Feelings I can't fight_

_You're free to leave me,_

_But just don't deceive me_

_And please, believe me when I say I love you_

Chandler walked out of the dance hall, leaving Ross to fight his own conflicting feelings of love and hate.

_Roxanne, you don't have to put on that dress tonight_

_Roxanne, you don't have to sell your body to the night _

_Roxanne, you don't have to put on that red light _

_Roxanne, you don't have to put on that dress tonight_

_Roxanne! _

Chandler made his way down the strip, and turned to see a red light emanating from the window of the room that he knew was Monica's.

_Why does my heart cry?_

_Feelings I can't fight_

_You're free to leave me,_

_But just don't deceive me_

_And please, believe me when I say I love you!!_

He cried out in agony; and in her heart, while letting the man she reviled kiss her, Monica felt him cry out, and tried to reassure both of them that their love could overcome this.

_Come what may, I will love you until my dying day._

(_Come What May_~David Baerwald; _Roxanne_~Sting; _El Tango de la Moulin Rouge_~lyrics by Baz Luhrmann and Craig Pearce)

AN: Okay, before you start in with the "Rachel is out of character" reviews…IMHO, Rachel, esp. in the first few seasons, is _very_ self-involved, and a person like her, when put into a situation like this, would certainly do whatever it takes to get what she wants…plus, it makes her more interesting, ha!


	6. I Don't Like This Ending!

_The Nightclub of Your Dreams_

_Chapter Six: I Don't Like This Ending_

"I hope you like Merlot," Richard said, as he poured the deep crimson liquid into two crystal goblets.

"Um, yeah…I mean, yes, yes of course," Monica smiled, and walked toward Richard.  Inside, her stomach was turning.  The irony of the situation was not lost on her; a month ago, she would have done anything to be here, with Richard Burke, on her way to a big career in Los Angeles.  But things had changed; everything had changed, because of Chandler.  She couldn't get him out her mind.  The look on his face when she'd told him that Richard was insisting on meeting with her haunted her still.

"Now, about that contract," Richard said smoothly, as he ran his hand through her hair.

Monica fought every urge she had not to shudder.  Putting on her best show-stopping smile, she decided she would try to let him down easy—for she had no intention of leaving Las Vegas now.

"Richard…"

"I am offering you the deal of a lifetime…in exchange," Richard pulled out a, enormous diamond ring, "You'll become my wife."

"Oh…I—"

"Diamonds are a girls best friend," Richard laughed.

Monica smiled, and turned toward the window, her mind racing.  She took a deep breath, and looked back at Richard.

_Like anyone would be _

_I am flattered by your fascination with me _

_Like any hot blooded woman _

_I have simply wanted an object to crave _

_But you're not allowed _

_You're uninvited _

_An unfortunate slight _

Richard's brow furrowed, and he took a deep breath.  He began to cross the room, the diamond still in his hand.  

"This is an offer you cannot refuse," he said flatly.

_Must be strangely exciting _

_To watch the stoic squirm _

_Must be somewhat heartening _

_To watch shepherd meet shepherd _

_But you're not allowed _

_You're uninvited _

_An unfortunate slight _

"Monica, I love you, and I will make you happy!  How can you refuse such an offer!  No one will be able to provide for you the way that I will.  Certainly not that…that…_writer_."

_Like any uncharted territory _

_I must seem greatly intriguing _

_You speak of my love like _

_You have experienced like mine before _

_But this is not allowed _

_You're uninvited _

_An unfortunate slight _

"This is absurd…I know that you have been sleeping with Chandler…but he cannot give you what I can.  And trust me when I tell you that it is in his best interest for you to take this," Richard's eyes narrowed, and Monica was barely able to utter her next words, as Richard grabbed her tiny wrist, and shoved the ring onto her trembling hand.

_Come what may…I will love you, until my dying day._

~**~

The Next Morning 

Chandler rolled over, and groaned audibly.  His head was pounding, and it felt like someone was plunging red-hot daggers into his eyes.  What the hell did he drink last night anyway?  He moved to sit up, but was his with a sudden wave of nausea.  Cringing, he stumbled into the bathroom, and threw up into the toilet.

A sharp pounding on his front door sent new waves of earth-shattering pain through his skull.

"Ooooh, stop pounding!" Chandler whispered to his head and to the door.  Reluctantly, he stood up, and opened the door.

"Monica," Chandler whispered his eyes adjusting to the glaringly bright light in the hallway.

"Hi Chandler," Monica said coolly, and made her way into the apartment.

"Wh-um, how are you?"

"I'm…okay," Monica sighed, and moved a tendril of hair behind her ear.

The sparkle from the diamond caught in the dim lamplight, and Chandler's eyes narrowed.

"What's going on, Monica?"

Monica sighed, and looked at the floor.  "I'm engaged," she said flatly.

"What?"

"To Richard."

Chandler shook his head quickly, and immediately regretted it.  He rubbed his temples, and moved toward Monica.  "Just what are you saying?"

"I'll be going to LA with him after the show on opening night."

"What about us?" Chandler asked desperately.

"Look, Chandler, it was fun while it lasted," Monica brushed past Chandler and opened the door, "but this is how the story really ends." She turned on her heel, and slammed the door behind her.

"Ahh!" Chandler's head was spinning and he fell to his knees.  This wasn't happening.  It couldn't be.  He struggled to find his breath, and his voice.  She'd been playing him; all this time, she'd been using him.  But why?  He finally let out a strangled cry, and ignoring his thumping head, he screamed.

*

Monica fell against the hotel wall, trying desperately to find the strength to walk away.  Images of the scene that had just transpired played in her head, as she trembled to her knees, tears flowing down her face.  She was doing the right thing—she had to do this, for Chandler's own safety.  

A horrible scream emanated from Chandler's apartment, and Monica let out a sob.  Rising to her feet, she ran from the hotel, and toward the Paris…toward her new destiny.

~**~

Rachel watched, as Richard and Monica announced their engagement to the rest of the company.  She looked around, and noticed that Chandler was nowhere to be seen.  She wondered if Monica had told him about the engagement.  Smirking, she walked toward the front doors.

"Rachel," Ross called as he jogged to catch up with her.

"Yes, Ross," Rachel folded her arms, and looked at him crossly.

"Wh-where are you going?" Ross asked nervously.

"To console our poor friend Chandler," Rachel smiled sweetly.

"Rachel," Ross warned.

"What, Ross, what?  Why do you care who I screw?" Rachel seethed.

"Because I—just because," Ross said quietly.

"Ross, why can't you let it go?  What happened between us is in the past!  Plus, you were the one who said you couldn't trust me!"

"Well, you said that you loved me, and then you went and slept with that guy!  I mean, what was I supposed to think!" Ross yelled, his temper running thin.

"We were on a break, Ross!"

"We were sooo not on a break!"

"Ugh, whatever!  Just…just leave me alone!" Rachel stormed out of the club.

Ross sighed, and shook his head.  He ignored the pain that lined his heart, and made his way back to the crowd.

~**~

"Come in," Chandler said gruffly, not moving from his position on his bed.

Rachel opened the door, and walked into the room.

"Oooh, Chandler, I just heard!  I am SO sorry," she said sweetly, and plopped down on Chandler's bed.

"Why do you care?" Chandler whispered.

"Chandler!  You…you are the sweetest guy I know!  Monica doesn't deserve you!  You know," Rachel saddled up next to Chandler, and put her arms around him, before pushing his head onto her chest, "Monica does this kind of stuff all the time.  She likes to play with men's heads.  She doesn't love Richard—she's using him for his connections and his money.  And with you…she wanted your innocence, and your heart.  And she always wins.  Monica always wins," Rachel whispered.  She felt Chandler sobbing, and she rubbed his back soothingly, "Shh, it's okay, sweetie.  You can let it all out.  I'm here for you," Rachel kissed the top of his head, and moved her hand down to his thigh, "I'll do whatever you need…to make you feel better."

Chandler sniffled loudly, and pulled his head off of Rachel's chest.

"Thanks, Rachel," Chandler smiled, and lay back on his bed.

"That's what friends are for," Rachel whispered, as she straddled his lap, and captured his lips with her own.

_Uninvited,_ Alanis Morissette; _Come What May_, David Baerwald


	7. Come What May

The Nightclub of Your Dreams 

_Chapter Seven: Come What May_

"She loves him, I know she loves him!" Joey mumbled, as he paced the boards backstage.  It was opening night, and Chandler was nowhere to be found.  Joey saw Jack walking toward him, and decided to make a last-ditch attempt to find out what was happening.

"Jack, you gotta help me!  We can't find Chandler, and we think that Richard might be blackmailing Monica into marrying him!"

"Joey, don't be absurd!  Monica loves Richard!" Jack chuckled.

"No!  She loves Chandler!" Joey protested, as Ross approached.

"Jack, Joey's right.  She doesn't love Richard; he's using her to get what he wants.  What's going on?"

"Ross, this is none of your concern.  Monica is fine.  She'll be happy in Los Angeles." Jack smirked, and began to walk away.

"How can you do this to your own daughter?" Ross' voice stopped Jack dead in his tracks.  He turned slowly, and glared at Ross.

"What did you just say?"

"I know she's your daughter, Jack.  And I think that, just this once, you need to put your own flesh and blood before the Moulin Rouge."

Jack felt dizzy, and short of breath.  He couldn't believe this was happening.  He thought he'd hidden the evidence so well…what was he going to do?

"I—I'll talk to her…you try to find your friend," Jack muttered.

"Yeah, baybee!" Joey exclaimed, and ran from the club, with Ross close behind.

*

"Well," Rachel whispered breathlessly, "I can certainly see what Monica saw in you.  You are…very talented."

Chandler pulled away from Rachel wordlessly, and turned away from her.

"I wish I didn't have to go…but it is opening night…" Rachel stood up, and sauntered across the room to gather her clothes.

The words 'opening night' hit Chandler like a hammer, and Rachel knew it.  She knew that he knew Monica was leaving with Richard after the show that night, and she reveled in taking full advantage of his misery, simply so that she could tell Monica that she had captured what Monica couldn't hold on to.

"I'll…give Monica your regards," Rachel said softly, as she leaned down to kiss Chandler once more, before leaving the room.

Chandler turned over on his back, and let the tears fall freely down his face.  He'd hated every moment with Rachel, but it had provided him with an outlet for his anger and pain.  And at least he knew what he was getting with Rachel; there were no pretenses, no lies, and no attachments.  He rolled out of bed, and padded to the bathroom.  Unable to control his emotions, he collapsed into a trembling heap onto the bathroom floor.  This was where Phoebe found him fifteen minutes later.

"Chandler, what happened?" Phoebe grabbed a blanket off of Chandler's bed, and wrapped it around his naked form.

"She'd gone…isn't she?" Chandler whispered.

"Who?  Chandler—"

"Chandler?" Joey called out from the other room.

"In here!" Phoebe called, and Joey and Ross appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"What the--?" Ross was shocked at how badly Chandler was taking this.  He knew that his friend loved Monica, but…

"We have to get to the Moulin Rouge," Joey said quickly, "We have to stop Richard!"

Chandler's head shot up, and he sniffled loudly.  "What?"

"She doesn't love him, Chandler, she loves you, I know it!"

"How?  How do you know it?  Did she tell you?"

"Well, no, but—"

Chandler sighed, and shook his head.

"But there's only one way to find out," Joey smiled slyly.

*

Monica popped another diet pill into her mouth nervously, and paced her dressing room.  Every second seemed precious to her, now that she was leaving the place that she had loathed for so long.  Vegas was filled with bad memories, and Monica had always sworn that one day she would leave, and never look back.  

And then he came into her life, and everything changed.

Now all Monica could see was him, and all the wonderful things that had happened to her since Chandler had entered her life.  She wiped a tear from her cheek, and sunk into a chair.  The look he'd had on his face…it haunted her.  And it would for the rest of her life.  She looked into the mirror, and realized that she had only one option left.  If she fought to stay, Richard would have Chandler killed—but if she left, she would never be able to forgive herself for what she'd done to him.  And she couldn't live with Richard…she just couldn't!  No, she would have to do this…it was the only way.

She emptied the pill bottle into her hand, and stared down at the pile of tiny white pills that now sat in the palm of her hand.

_It was the only way._

She looked over at the envelope that was sat on her dressing table, and took a deep breath, before dropping the pills into her mouth.  She swallowed them down, then looked up at her reflection in the mirror.  

She didn't recognize the person looking back at her.

"Monica," the voice startled her, and Monica gasped and whipped around.

"Chandler, wh-what are you doing here?"

"I felt that…I should pay you for your…services," Chandler dropped a wad of money onto the ground.

"What?"

"You performed perfectly…I truly believed that you loved me," Chandler's voice was shaky and unsure.

"Chandler—"

"Thank you…for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!"

"Monica," Richard appeared behind Chandler in the doorway of the dressing room.

"Richard," Monica whispered.

"Chandler…what are you doing here?" Richard seethed.

"I was just…paying my bill," Chandler whispered, never taking his eyes off of Monica.

"Right," Richard sneered, and shoved him up against the wall.

"Richard, don't—" Monica doubled over in pain—the pills were taking effect.

Richard ignored Monica, and punched Chandler in the gut, then in the face.

"Ahh," Monica collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain.

"Hey!" Joey and Ross appeared, and pulled Richard off of Chandler.  As soon as he was free, Chandler crawled over to Monica.

"Mon…what—"

"Chandler," Monica sputtered, "I…I love you."

"What…what's wrong?"

"It…it's better…this way."

"Monica…please tell me!"

"Chandler," Ross held up an empty pill bottle.

"Get an ambulance!" Chandler screamed.

"Come…what…may," Monica smiled sadly.

"I love you," Chandler cried.

"Until my…dying…"

"Monica?  Monica!" Chandler shook Monica's limp form, his sobs becoming more pronounced with each passing second.

_*_

_There was a boy_

_A very strange, enchanted boy_

_They say he traveled very far…very far_

_Over land and sea_

_A little shy, and sad of eye_

_But very wise, was he._

_And then one day_

_A magic day he passed my way_

And while he spoke of many things 

_Fools and kings_

_This he said to me_

_The greatest thing_

_You'll ever learn_

_Is to love_

_And be loved in return_

"Hey," Chandler smiled tiredly, when Monica opened her eyes, two days later.

"Hey," she whispered hoarsely.

"How do you feel?"

"Horrible.  Chandler…your face…"

"Oh," Chandler touched his swollen eye gingerly, "it's no big deal."

"Wh-where's Richard?"

"Los Angeles.  He thinks your dead."

"Chandler…I'm…sorry," Monica struggled to sit up, but Chandler placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"I know why you did it.  I just…I wish you would have told me the truth."

"I didn't want you to—"

"I know.  Mon, there's something you should know.  The night before the show, Rachel—"

"I know," Monica whispered, and Chandler's head bolted up in surprise, "She told me."

"She—she—um, what did—"

"She told me you seduced her.  But I know her well enough to know that it was the other way around," Monica smiled.

"I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," Monica interrupted.

"But—"

"We'll start again.  A fresh start."

Chandler smiled, and looked down at his hands.

"I—I'm not the person I was when I came here," he whispered, "Vegas…had a strange effect on me," he winked.

"No one ever leaves Vegas the same," Monica laughed.

"It's nothing I ever expected…and everything I always wanted."

"So are you," Monica whispered, as Chandler leaned in to kiss her.

_Never knew I could feel like this_

_It's like I've never seen the sky before_

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Every day I'm loving you more and more_

_Listen to my heart can you hear it sing_

_Come back to me and forgive everything_

_Seasons may change, winter to spring_

But I love you till the end of time 

_Come what may, come what may, come what may_

_I will love you until my dying day_

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place_

_Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace_

_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste_

_It all revolves around you_

_And there's no mountain too high_

_No river too wide, sing out this song_

_And I'll be there by your side_

_Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide_

_But I love you until the end of time _

_~The End~_

_(Nature Boy~Eden Ahbez; Come What May~David Baerwald)_

_AN: Kay, the more I wrote, the more I realized that I got myself knee-deep into something I am not creative or talented enough to pull off.  Apologies to Mr. Luhrmann, and to anyone else who read this, LOL.  Not my strongest piece._

~A~


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